


What Sweeter Fruit

by Cerberusia



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: M/M, Quests, Road Trips, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 18:42:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12138708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerberusia/pseuds/Cerberusia
Summary: "Dude, I'm not letting you get hypothermia."Nico looked as if he'd rather risk hypothermia than share a sleeping bag with me. I knew he didn't like me much these days, though not why, but I felt that this was slightly excessive.





	What Sweeter Fruit

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Iddy Iddy Bang Bang 2017! I wrote 500 words of this every day during the month of August, and then when September hit I got so busy that I've been rushing desperately to finish it in time. It just kept growing and growing! This is actually the longest fic I have ever written, and it is my shamelessly iddy baby. Please enjoy.

"Dude, I'm not letting you get hypothermia."

Nico looked as if he'd rather risk hypothermia than share a sleeping bag with me. I knew he didn't like me much these days, though not why, but I felt that this was slightly excessive.

"Look, this is standard procedure," I insisted, getting the blanket out of my rucksack and spreading it over the sleeping bag. "We have to sleep, and we need to share body heat." Even across the cave, I could see he was shivering. He was so pale and skinny, he'd be lucky to get away with just hypothermia: I could imagine him slipping into a sleep he'd never wake up from with horrible clarity. He could hate me all he liked, but I wasn't going to let him die on my watch. "What do you think I'm going to do to you," I asked in exasperation, "molest you in your sleep?"

His cheeks flamed bright red for a minute, which the Underworld-induced paleness made very obvious; but then he looked away and said, sullenly,

"No."

And I guess I won that one, because, reluctantly, he started taking off his boots. He was a good inch shorter without them, and when he took off his big aviator jacket he looked very small and young. I remembered him spilling out of the bronze jar, ghost-pale and gaunt in the death-trance. I'd thought of it often, in Tartarus, and felt guilty.

I'd already taken off my shoes and jacket, so I wriggled my way into the sleeping bag and held it open for him. He made a face like I'd offered him sheep's eyes, but he crawled in next to me and let me zip up the bag.

It was cozy. _Very_ cozy.

The sleeping bag had some kind of mild enchantment on it to allow it to stretch to fit some pretty large campers, but two whole people were still a tight squeeze. I ended up with Nico's back pressed to my chest, my face in his hair. He smelled like earth and just a little like the Underworld. I tried not to think about the fact that I was basically spooning him. Nico was stiff as a board next to me, so I guessed he was trying not to think about it either.

There was nothing I could do to make Nico more comfortable, so I just closed my eyes and let the day's exertion wash over me. Blackjack was already fast asleep a few feet away, still standing up. We'd agreed on a mix of Pegasus-back and shadow-travel to travel cross-country, and both of them were tiring in different ways.

Shadow-travelling was convenient and all, but it totally wiped Nico out, and we were limited to making only short jumps. It was frustrating, for Nico especially, but we didn't want to risk his health with longer jumps. Correction: _I_ didn't want to risk his health with longer jumps, or Will Solace would never let me hear the end of it.

I wondered how everyone was getting on back at camp, the people who were still there now autumn had come. It had only been a couple of days since we'd left, but of course I'd started worrying the moment we flew out of sight on Blackjack. We'd survived nearly being bombed back to the Bronze Age by Camp Jupiter, but the close call had made me realise how fragile it all was.

Which was why we were on this quest in the first place. There was no prophecy involved: Nico had just turned up at camp two months after vanishing without a word - Jason had told us, quietly, what Nico had said to him in Croatia about leaving forever - and announced to Chiron and Mr. D that he'd found something near Camp Jupiter that would fortify the camp further. Some kind of flower - I don't know, I wasn't paying attention.

The only reason I heard any of this was because I was up at the Big House to talk with Chiron about my duties as Head Counsellor of Poseidon Cabin, given that I was the only person who actually lived there, so my workload was kind of light. We'd just agreed that I should take on chief responsibility for sword training when I heard Nico talking to Mr. D in the kitchen. I nearly vaulted Chiron's withers to get to the door.

That was the only reason I knew about it, you see: because I overheard them. If I hadn't, he never would have come to say hello. We never would have known he'd even come back. I said that to him in the kitchen - well, yelled it, actually, I was pretty mad - and he narrowed his eyes and said,

"That was the _point_ , Percy."

So I went with him to get this flower or whatever. Nico had tried to refuse point-blank, but we'd all worn him down and in the end I'd simply stolen his Stygian iron sword so he literally couldn't go without me. So here we were, day two of our journey to California, in a freezing cave somewhere in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, Illinois, because that was where his shadow-travel had dumped us, and he still could hardly stand to look at me. I just wanted to know what I'd _done_.

Nico had relaxed minutely beside me, but when I moved my hand so it was resting on his arm rather than squished up against his back, he tensed up again like I'd put it on his waist.

"Relax," I hissed in his ear. He was still shivering, just a little, and when he didn't untense I really did put my arm around his waist and squeeze gently. Well, maybe kind of firmly. I was tired and wanted to get to sleep, and I couldn't do that until I was sure Nico wasn't going to expire of cold in the night. I did _not_ want to wake up to find a Nico-popsicle in my sleeping bag.

So of course Nico went absolutely rigid. I knew he wasn't exactly cuddly, but he was doing a good impression of a Victorian maiden afraid for her virtue. That made me imagine him in a white nightgown fleeing an abandoned castle in the dead of night. Then I stopped imagining that, because it was breaking my brain.

" _Percy_." That was what I had mentally dubbed the _Stygian-iron-up-your-nose_ voice. It made it slightly less frightening. For such a small, pale, scrawny kid, Nico in a rage was absolutely terrifying. Even when he was on your side.

But I was too tired and just too _done_ to be frightened. Nico wasn't going to do me violence after he'd tried so hard to keep me alive. Besides, his arms and legs were trapped by the sleeping bag, plus he was facing the wrong way to bite me. So I said,

"Nico, you're still shivering. Just relax and let me warm you up." And I consciously relaxed every muscle in my body, inviting sleep to carry me off. Nico could have his cuddle-freakout in the morning: I just wanted to pass out for the next eight hours, and I hadn't even done most of the work.

Nico made a muffled sound that was either a foreign swearword or an inarticulate noise of despair. But after a long, awkward minute, I felt him deliberately relax under my arm. _Finally_ I was able to sleep.

I had weird dreams, of course. That always happens on quests. But these dreams weren't like premonitions or like I was seeing what was happening at that moment in a different place. Instead, they were of Jason and Nico in a stone-walled room, their weapons drawn. I couldn't tell what they were saying, but Jason looked alarmed and Nico looked anguished.

I didn't tell Nico about it when I woke up, though it left me feeling weird. Of course, I could have told Nico pretty much anything I wanted when I woke up, because he was still passed out. Reyna had mentioned that he slept like - well, she hadn't wanted to say 'like the dead', but we were both thinking it. She'd also suggested a gentle serenade of airhorns to rouse him, but I was pretty sure she was joking.

So I shook his shoulder roughly to wake him up. This produced a small 'Aagggghhhh' noise and some groaning. I sympathised, but we had to get moving.

"C'mon, Nico, up and at 'em." I shook him again, trying not to make it obvious that my morning wood was pressing against his ass. With some guys you can make a joke about it and with some you can't, and I didn't know which one Nico was yet.

Nico grumbled a bit, but fumbled the sleeping bag zip open and flopped onto the ground, which at least allowed me to crawl out after him.

Five minutes later, he was propped up against the cave wall eating a disgruntled cereal bar. I was rolling up my sleeping bag and trying to brush the leaves off it. The downside of making a leaf mat when camping: you'll never have a leaf-free sleeping bag ever again. Or a spider-free one.

"Is Hazel this bad in the morning?" I asked in fascination as he started to list to one side. I didn't remember her falling asleep at the _Argo_ 's breakfast table, but maybe she got up earlier to allow herself time to fully achieve consciousness.

"Almost." Nico blinked heavily and righted himself. "Dad's worse," he added, finishing his cereal bar.

 _Worse?_ If Hades was even less of a morning person than Nico, it was a wonder anything got done in the Underworld before lunch. Styx, maybe it didn't. Time did move differently down there, after all.

Though, I thought as I munched my own cereal bar, this was unusual even for Nico, who slept heavily but yesterday had managed to drag himself into wakefulness after a few minutes of bleary-eyed confusion. Either this was just how he naturally functioned when he wasn't in a life-or-death situation, or he'd slept badly last night. Looking at him more closely, I noticed that the dark circles under his eyes, which hadn't been so bad when he'd turned up at Camp a couple of days ago, were more pronounced.

We got moving soon after. Nico had woken up just enough to climb onto Blackjack and cling to my waist. He'd been very hesitant to do that when we started out two days ago, until I pointed out that it was the only reliable way to keep from falling off, so he should hang on tight. Grudgingly, he'd wrapped his arms around my waist. Now he just clung on and dozed with his face against my shoulder. I guessed he was too sleepy to feel uncomfortable. Not a cuddly guy, Nico - unless you were Hazel.

 _Away from the sun, boss?_ Blackjack asked me as we set off, his powerful wings making eddies in the leaf litter.

"Sure," I confirmed. "Sleep well?"

_Oh yeah. Weird dreams, though. I dreamt I was talking with giant carrots. Maybe I was hungry!_

"Blackjack, you're _always_ hungry."

Blackjack was the third member of our quest team. He'd been kind of a last-minute addition, because we needed transport that wasn't Nico's shadow-travelling and he was the only pegasus that would give Nico a ride. I could have taken Porkpie, I guess, but Blackjack was _my_ pegasus. Plus I was afraid that if I took my eyes off Nico he'd disappear to find the flower on his own and we wouldn't see him for another six months. Blackjack had insisted that he was strong enough to carry both me and _that skinny Hades kid_ , so he had.

And to his credit, he'd done just fine with me, Nico and our backpacks - mine the standard Camp issue orange, Nico's battered and black. I wondered whether it was significant that the only pegasus who had taken to Nico was black, like basically everything he owned. I guess if your dad is the god of the Underworld, you either get with the Goth program or you dress entirely in rainbows out of sheer spite. Last time I'd seen her, Hazel had seemed to be trying that.

Beneath us, the landscape changed to open farmland. It was still far from where we were headed, but it was pretty and peaceful to fly over on a late autumn morning. Nico had woken up properly by now, and I could feel him looking right and left to take in the scenery. Despite being strongly associated with the earth and what was under it, he'd never suffered from Hazel's seasickness or airsickness.

Though Hazel had no problems on Arion, which for most people felt kind of like flying without actually being inside a plane, what with the feeling of your insides being compressed and your face being peeled off. Apparently Pluto had a connection with horses, which was probably why Hazel was so good with Arion, along with her ability to provide him with his favourite snack. Did Hades have a connection with horses, too?

Nico had never told me - I mean, he didn't tell me anything that wasn't quest-related - that he had any opinon on horses or pegasi one way or the other, but Blackjack had told me that he'd received the occasional extra carrot and pats from Nico before he'd disappeared. I remembered Blackjack telling me years ago that the pegasi didn't like Nico because he smelled like death, and that Blackjack himself had only agreed to carry him with great reluctance. Blackjack was special to me, obviously, but I'd never considered that he might be special to Nico as well.

"Hey, Blackjack," I said, and Blackjack's ears swivelled towards me to indicate that he was listening. "How's Poptart doing? Eight months off the big event, right?"

 _Seven months and three weeks, boss!_ Blackjack's voice was gleeful. _The old lady's doing fine, just fine. Says she gets all the best hay over there._

"Blackjack's girlfriend is in foal," I explained to Nico over the rushing wind. "She's Skippy's sister, so she lives over at Camp Jupiter. Love at first sight, apparently."

Nico snorted in my ear. "Cute," he said.

 _We're super cute,_ confirmed Blackjack smugly. _And our foal is going to be cuter than the two of us combined! I bet it's gonna have it's mom's eyes,_ he added dreamily. I left him to it. I wondered, would the foal be chestnut like Poptart, or black like Blackjack? Or maybe bay? I didn't know how pegasi colours worked - we only had white and black ones at Camp Half-Blood. It _would_ be cute, though, I had to admit. I'd never seen a baby pegasus, but I'd see pictures of ordinary baby horses, and they were adorable even without little fluffy wings.

We touched down just outside some tiny one-horse town so Blackjack could have a couple of hours' break and we could have lunch. We were in Iowa by now, and still the rolling cornfields spread on in all directions. The buildings weren't in pristine condition, but it didn't look like a total dive, just a little worn, so we left Blackjack grazing some farmer's pasture and went in search of a diner.

Looking back, I should never have expected it all to go smoothly. But we'd defeated Gaea several months earlier, and we hadn't encountered any monsters yet, which was surely a good sign. I let myself hope that maybe they were all taking a break. They couldn't have got out of Tartarus yet, right?

Yeah, wrong. But we didn't know that yet, walking into Nitchville, Iowa, population: 2000. It was kind of cute, actually, with lots of old-fashioned wood buildings. Just a small, sleepy farming community in the middle of nowhere in the Midwest.

I said as much to Nico, who snorted.

"Percy, you're from New York," he pointed out. "Anything smaller than Manhattan looks tiny to you." That was true, but I felt like chatting after a few hours of enforced silence in the air. To carry on a conversation on pegasus-back, you had to either shout over the wind or turn your head to speak into the other person's ear, and both options got tiring fast. So I said,

"Hey, it's not like Venice is small." I'd never been to Venice, but we'd done _The Merchant of Venice_ in English class and apparently it was a big deal. Nico's nose wrinkled.

"Not big enough for all the tourists who come," he said in distaste.

"Worse than New York?" I grew up there. Trust me, I know all about the pains of tourists. I'm still kind of surprised that there's no section of the Fields of Punishment that's made to look like Times Square, crammed with sunburned tourists that come up to ask you for directions to the Statue of Liberty every five minutes. Maybe I should suggest it to Nico and have him pass it on to his dad.

" _Way_ worse." Nico's tone suggested that he'd like to provide his own, terminal solution to the problem. To be honest, I couldn't imagine anything worse than all the tourists in Times Square, unless it was the crowds of them in Central Park. Venice must really be something else.

So we walked up the main street and found the town's only diner. It wasn't hard: it bore a sign naming it as the _Mighty Leap Diner_ , which I thought was kind of a weird name for a diner. But we were both hungry, and I guess hunger blunts my sense of self-preservation (though Annabeth would tell me I have no such thing), because in we went without a second thought.

It was your typical small-town diner. Not that I've been in many. I'm just going off what I see on the TV. Checkerboard walls, tacky Americana decor, and red plastic booths. We sank into one near the door. I stretched my legs out under the table, stiff from being on horseback for the past few hours, and gently bumped Nico's as he did the same thing. Neither of us was feeling polite enough to move, so a bit of my calf was pressed to Nico's. I didn't mind: Nico usually wouldn't even accept a friendly hand on his arm unless he was injured, so I hoped it was a sign that he was feeling less closed-off after we'd had to share a sleeping-bag. Forced togetherness and all that.

The waitress who came to serve us looked safely human, though she'd gone pretty heavy on the peroxide and fake tan for a woman who was clearly the wrong side of fifty. She smiled broadly and, yep, unnaturally white teeth. But they were human teeth, not fangs, and she didn't rip out the table to get to our throats more easily, so as far as I cared she could embalm herself in as much fake tan as she wanted.

I ordered a cheeseburger, and Nico did the same. It's something that every diner has, and it saves me from having to try to read the menu. For some reason, diner menus don't tend to have an Ancient Greek translation. We didn't talk while we waited for them to arrive, and we didn't talk while we stuffed them into our mouths. We were the only people in the diner, and the cool spring sunlight coming through the window made the silence feel fragile.

I considered Nico over my burger. He wasn't paying any attention to me while there was food on his plate - after a month of barely eating when we'd rescued him from the jar, his appetite had come back with a vengeance. And I can tell you, a hungry Nico is a cranky Nico.

He was still pale, but normal Italian-pale, not the greenish-white he'd been when he came out of the jar. I didn't know where he'd been for the past two months, but I didn't think it was the Underworld. He wasn't scarily skinny any more either. He just looked like himself again, maybe with slightly shorter hair. It still looked messy, and I bet he'd cut it himself.

The hair, shadows under his eyes and dark clothes gave him a permanently rumpled look, and I wondered what the waitress saw when she looked at us. We didn't look like brothers, but we were technically cousins on the godly side, so maybe there was some resemblance? Then again, Jason was cousin to both of us on that side, and neither of us looked a thing like him. So long as we didn't look like teen runaways or like I'd abducted Nico, I guessed it was all fine.

Of course, it wasn't fine. This is the demigod life, remember? There's _always_ something that wants make your spleen into a fancy hat.

"Refill, sweetie?" I didn't even have to turn. I recognised that voice. I'd heard it a few too many times. I looked up into the monstrous face of Stheno. It was slightly depressing that I'd faced these guys enough to tell them apart. The security in Tartarus really needed tightening up.

On the bright side, at least the Gorgons had let us finish our lunch before they attacked us. Fighting monsters on an empty stomach _sucks_.

I uncapped Riptide and swung it at her neck. I trusted Nico to dodge - Styx, I'd be surprised if Nico was still sitting there. The bronze blade sliced through the Gorgon's neck and her head toppled off. Unlike the last time we'd met, she wouldn't be getting up.

There was a shriek from behind Stheno - Euryale, her sister. Stheno's body dropped to the floor just in time for Euryale to tear the Coke nozzle out of the machine and direct it at me, spraying me full-force with sticky soft drink. I staggered backward a few steps and she leapt over the counter, mouth open wide, fangs directed at my throat.

She didn't make it. Nico materialised right in front of her and I watched his Stygian iron sword slam right into her chest, her own momentum driving her onto its point. I stepped over Stheno's goopily dissolving body and finished off her sister the same way. It pays to make sure with monsters: as Clarisse put it to the Ares cabin when I overheard her instructing them in spear drills, always double-tap.

We stood in the middle of the diner, chairs knocked askew and Coke all over the linoleum floor, watching as the two Gorgons dissolved to leave only vials of their blood.

"Healing on the right, poison on the left," I said when Nico bent to pick up Euryale's. He nodded and put them into the respective pockets of his jacket. I did the same. I didn't want to get _those_ confused.

"Is it just me," I said as we surveyed the destruction, "or are we getting better at this?" I'd had way more trouble with the Gorgons in the past. Getting rid of them this time had taken less than five minutes.

Nico shrugged. "I guess we'd have to." He was looking at Lake Coca-Cola instead of at me. "We've had plenty of practice."

"True." I recapped Riptide and Nico sheathed his sword. It wasn't concealed by his jacket, but nobody had ever seemed to notice the teenage boy carrying a big black sword around in public, so I guessed it must be the Mist at work again.

I wasn't sure the Mist would cover _this_ up, though.

"Hey, ready to leave before the waitress gets back?"

Nico was already pulling bills out of his wallet. We didn't run out of the _Mighty Leap Diner_ \- and now I realised, _duh_ \- but we definitely strode rather than sauntered, if you get my drift. Fortunately nobody was about to notice us except some old guy who nodded at us and didn't even blink at my Coke-soaked shirt.

 _Woah, boss! What happened to you?_ Blackjack looked up from contentedly munching grass and swished his tail.

"Gorgons. We totally owned them, but they owned my shirt first." I peeled my sticky, soaked shirt away from my chest and grimaced. "There's a river just over there, and I guess I'm washing in it."

 _And I'm thirsty,_ Blackjack helpfully interjected. Right, pegasi needed plenty of water, just like horses.

After a moment, I took off my jacket and pulled the shirt over my head and off entirely. I could have got the water out, but all that sugar - ugh, no. I was seriously sticky. I looked over at Nico. "Sorry, but at least this way you get more of a break."

Nico just shrugged. He wasn't just not looking at me, he was _not looking_ in a way that felt deliberate. Was he angry? No, I recognised that fixed stare. It was what I did when one day Clarisse had had to strip down to her bra next to me on the training field. I wished I didn't remember that, actually, but it was seared into my memory through trauma.

"Nico, we're both guys. You don't need to worry about my maidenly modesty or anything." Nico's ears went delicately pink and he looked me in the eye at last - though not at my bare chest. His prudishness was ridiculous, but also kind of funny. I was tempted to wade into the river naked, just to see what colours he turned.

"Whatever," he said. "Let's go find this river."

The river was only half a mile away. Nico and I walked next to each other and Blackjack meandered along behind us, idly commenting on the quality of the grass. It was a mild autumn day, so I wasn't cold. Nico, as ever, was bundled up in his battered brown aviator jacket. I knew he'd lost his old one to a werewolf attack, so this must be a replacement.

We passed some birds sitting on a fence. They were tiny black and white round things, and they twittered as we walked by. I'd like to say that I automatically suspected them of being enemy spies, because that sounds badass, but to be honest I just thought they were kind of cute.

"Hey, if I can understand horses and fish, do you think Jason can understand birds?"

Nico raised an eyebrow. I was envious - I couldn't do that. If I tried, I just looked like I had a facial tic.

"No idea. Ask him when we get to Camp Jupiter." His tone didn't imply that he was wondering whether I really did have kelp between my ears, but that was a typical Nico-answer: bland and unengaged. Whenever I tried to start a conversation, he didn't outright tell me to shove it: he just refused to pick up the conversational football and instead let it deflate on the ground between us. We never managed to exchange more than a handful of sentences.

To be honest, it was starting to piss me off. Just out of spite, I really did take off the rest of my clothes when we got to the river. I had second thoughts halfway through, mainly over the possibility of being ambushed while in a state of undress, but Nico's choked cough behind me made it worth it. Served him right, I thought viciously. If I could cope with him being deliberately closed-off, he could cope with getting a glimpse of my ass.

The water made me feel better, as always. I dived beneath its clear blue surface in case any of the Coke had got in my hair, and opened my eyes. It was only a small river, and while it wasn't the cleanest section of water I'd ever been in, it definitely wasn't the dirtiest. I could see to the bottom, which was littered with cans and garbage. I wrinkled my nose and decided I could stay floating up here. At least there were still fish flitting about, apparently healthy.

 _Son of the sea god!_ they said as they swam close to me. Yeah, I'm a minor celebrity to aquatic creatures. I know you're envious.

I broke the surface again to check that Nico hadn't just shadow-travelled away in exasperation. That was the kind of thing he might do. But he was just waiting on the shore, water lapping at his boots as he eyed the river mistrustfully. He carefully wasn't looking at me.

Out of the corner of my eye, something moved. Something _big_. Oh, Styx, I really shouldn't have stripped off. Riptide waited for me in the pocket of my jeans, safely on the bank. All I was carrying was my t-shirt, which I'd meant to wash.

But water was my element. I took a deep breath and felt for the current. Whatever it was, I could catch it.

It was a man. A man was wading out of the river, fully-clothed but dry. Nico had his sword out, but the stranger just turned to me and said,

"Howdy." And he touched the brim of his hat. His face was fair and weatherbeaten, and he wore fisherman's waders. He looked like the kind of guy who enjoyed a long hike through nature followed by a game of golf.

"Cedar River," I said, stupidly. You'd think I'd be used to meeting river spirits by now after all the naiads at Camp, but nope, still a massive surprise every time. I made to follow him out of the water, then remembered that I still wasn't wearing any clothes. I didn't know whether the personification of a river would care about that, but I decided to stay where I was and try not to think about the fact that I was _in him_.

"That's me." He stuck his thumbs in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "You boys travelling far?"

"Calfornia, sir." I could tell he liked being called _sir_. Demigod lesson: the more minor the god, the more important it is that they feel respected. The Olympians can laugh stuff off because they know they're at the top of the heap. The little guys know every ounce of respect that's their due, and it all goes a lot smoother if you just give it to them.

"California, huh? That's a long way." Cedar River looked westwards over my shoulder like he was estimating the distance.

I shrugged. Behind the river spirit, Nico had put away his sword but still looked wary.

"That's where we've got to go. Central Valley."

Cedar River's bushy eyebrows went up.

"Sacramento and San Joaquim? If you got business with them, take my advice, son: don't bother." He snorted. "I'd be surprised if Joe even bothers to come meetcha."

"Nothing to do with them, as far as I know. But, uh, we'll take that advice, sir." I didn't know what the matter with either of the rivers in question was, except maybe pollution. It's usually pollution. Though if they were nastier than the Hudson Bay, I'd be impressed.

"Mm-hm." Cedar River studied me for a minute. Then he turned to glance over his shoulder at Nico. "Well, you boys take care," he said. He raised his hand, touched the brim of his hat again, and turned around to stroll right back into the river. Nico and I both watched as his head sank beneath the waves. It was like he'd never been there at all.

On the bank, Nico was raising his eyebrows in an expression that said _What in Hades was that about?_ I shrugged.

"I think he just wanted a chat. Sometimes water spirits like to come and size me up as Dad's son." I was still immersed in the river in question and still not wearing any clothes. Nico seemed to realise that at the same time as I did, because his gaze suddenly slid to one side and his face went very pink. He stared fixedly into the middle distance as I dried off, wrung the water out of my shirt, and got dressed again. I felt so awkward that I nearly fell over trying to put my jeans on.

"Des Moines, right?" I asked when I'd managed to get all my clothes on without completely embarrassing myself.

"Des Moines," Nico confirmed. "Or somewhere in that direction. Long-distance shadow-travelling isn't always precise."

"Go west, young man," I said, and got a weird look. Nico passed for a modern teenager so well that I usually forgot that he was completely ignorant of any pop culture after the 1930s. Apart from Mythomagic, of course. "Yeah, I forgot you missed Elvis."

"Presley? I've heard of him." Nico frowned. "Is he really famous?"

"He's known as 'The King of Rock and Roll'. Take a guess." I climbed onto Blackjack and helped Nico get up behind me.

"Pretty famous, then." Nico wrapped his arms around my waist. I put one of my hands tight over his and clung to Blackjack's mane with the other. I wasn't sure whether you could 'fall off' during shadow-travel, but I didn't want to risk it. With one powerful beat of his wings, Blackjack took us aloft.

"I'll introduce you to his music some time," I said. And then we were off.

As usual, shadow-travel felt like my insides were being squeezed through a tube while I plunged down a steep drop on a rollercoaster. Nico told me you get used to it, but I think he might have been lying to make me feel better.

No, scratch that: Nico doesn't lie to make anyone feel better. When Zeus or whoever was handing out tact, Nico was in the bathroom. Lying to get us to cross the country more efficiently, on the other hand, was possible-to-likely.

We emerged above a carpet of green and crowds of people. I'm glad to say none of them happened to be looking up.

 _Nice,_ said Blackjack. _Green._

After a moment, I realised that the green bits were loads and loads of plants, all arranged in beds. I looked up: above us was a glass dome. Behind me, Nico swore in Ancient Greek.

"On the bright side, we're in Des Moines. On the...dark side, we're inside. Hang on."

Another shadow-travel jump, and another opportunity for my stomach to remind me exactly what I'd eaten so far today. I swallowed hard as we emerged in mid-air, this time _outside_ what proclaimed itself to be the Des Moines Botanical Garden. Blackjack swooped in to land, moaning about enduring two shadow-travel jumps in the space of a minute. I sympathised.

"Hey, Nico," I said as we climbed off the pegasus, me with slightly wobbly legs. "When you told me I would 'get used' to shadow-travelling: was that a lie, or am I just slow?"

"I got used to it pretty quickly. It tires me out, but it hasn't made me feel sick since maybe the second time I did it?" Nico shrugged. "I assumed other people would take a longer time to adjust, but maybe if you're not me or Hazel it's always going to feel unnatural." There was something weird about his voice on the word 'unnatural'. I frowned, but he'd already turned away to scan the area.

"The river's in that direction." I pointed. It's a great thing about being the son of Poseidon: I can always sense the nearest water source. I know it doesn't sound that cool or impressive, but when you draw strength from bodies of water, in a fight it can be a matter of life and death. "You can sit on a bench and I'll talk to the river or something." Nico hadn't just lain down right there to take a nap, which was a good sign, but he looked even sleepier and more rumpled than usual.

"Mm-hm." Nico ran his fingers through his hair - getting them caught in several tangles on the way - and motioned for me to lead on. Yeah, he needed a break. Nico is never that docile unless he's literally too tired to argue.

 _This is water I can drink, right, Boss?_ Blackjack asked suspiciously. Honestly, you accidentally offer a pegasus salt water _one_ time...

"Technically, but I'm not sure you'd want to." In my experience, rivers that flow through cities are pretty nastily polluted. It also made the river spirits bad-tempered, which meant that despite what I'd told Nico, I wasn't that keen on meeting the Des Moines River. Still, I wanted to stay pretty close to the water in case we met something nastier than the Gorgons.

In the end, we didn't meet anything. Nico curled up on a bench, knees drawn up, and promptly passed out. I sat next to him, watching Blackjack investigate the water quality. A few people came past us, but they paid us no attention. The exceptions were a mother and her small daughter, who were taking a slow walk along the river bank. The daughter, who I guess was maybe three or four years old, exclaimed, "The horse has WINGS!" when she saw Blackjack taking a cautious sip of the river. Her mother laughed.

"No, Ellie, that's a dog! A doggie!" I saw her squeeze the little girl's hand affectionately. "You do have a big imagination!"

"HORSE," Ellie stubbornly insisted. It had never occurred to me before that normal small children might be able to see through the Mist, but when I thought about it, it wasn't surprising.

Blackjack had some choice words about the Mist choosing to disguise him as a dog, and about the taste of the Des Moines River, but I pointed out that anything even vaguely equine would look pretty out of place in downtown Des Moines. Plus, I sometimes think the Mist has a sense of humour. I still remember it disguising Mrs. O'Leary - who, let me remind you, is a black mastiff-like hellhound about the size of a Hummer - as a poodle. It took me weeks to live that one down.

Above us, the sun was starting to sink lower in the sky. We'd have to get going soon to make Nebraska by nightfall. I'd already decided that we were going to take Blackjack, not shadow-travel.

I looked over at Nico. He'd pulled up his knees and rested his head on them, and I could see his sleeping face over the sleeve of his jacket. He stopped frowning when he slept. It made him look his age, or maybe a little younger: he was small for fifteen.

I could hardly believe that Nico was fifteen now. It was autumn, and the school year had started: but instead of being in freshman Calculus, here he was with me. As far as I knew, he'd stopped attending school at ten, though he'd told me his dad had made him agree to be tutored by ghosts.

I thought it sounded like a pretty sweet deal: having gone through high school, I'd take ghostly tutors any day. Gym class was one of the few times I wished I really had chosen to stay at Camp all year round.

Nico looked very small and lonely, curled up there on the bench. He seemed delicate, even though we both knew that he was as strong as me or Jason.

 _What do you dream about?_ I wondered. The same things as I dreamed about, probably. Ghosts, Tartarus, and the occasional stupid but vivid dream featuring Jason and Octavian celebrating some Roman ritual by solemnly doing the hula on top of the Camp Half Blood lava wall.

I didn't really want to wake him up, but we had to make Nebraska by nightfall. So I reached out to shake him awake, vigorously if needed. I'd seen him sleep through a kazoo before.

But I didn't touch his shoulder, even though it was right there. Instead I gently put my hand on his head, cupping the curve of his skull. Carefully, I combed his silky black hair out of his face with my fingers. He didn't stir. It turned out his hair really _was_ as soft as it looked.

Then I stopped being a weirdo, cleared my throat, and shook his bony shoulder with slightly more force than necessary. Nico opened his eyes blearily and hissed at me. Then he seemed to realise where we were and what was going on, because he lifted his head to stare at the river like he was checking it was still there.

"Nebraska?" he asked after a moment of swallowing.

"Nebraska," I confirmed. "It's time we were gone."

Blackjack was full of energy, and full of complaints about the Des Moines River and the people who put nasty things in it. I agreed with him, but really hoped that the river god wasn't listening. That would not be a good way to end our time in Iowa.

We flew west, towards the setting sun. This meant the sun was in my eyes, so I mainly looked down instead of forward. There were great tracts of yellow and green farmland occasionally dotted with settlements, or broken up entirely by a city and its suburbs. Don't get me wrong, I'm a city guy through and through: but flying over endless rolling fields under a sunny sky made me understand why people get the urge to move out to 'the country'. There's a stillness out there, like you might go days without meeting another human being, and there'd be birdsong wherever you went.

It would drive me totally crazy after a day, of course. I'd be so lonely I'd have to talk to myself. It's just not my kind of thing. But spread out beneath Blackjack's powerful wings as he bore us westward, it had a sun-dappled seductive power.

Nebraska was quiet, and we flew in silence. Like I said before, it's difficult to do otherwise. Ahead of us, the sun was sinking lower and lower in the sky.

I could feel Nico leaning more heavily against my back, like he'd forgotten to feel weird about physical contact. It was nice, actually, but it meant we needed to find somewhere to land before we seized up in this position. Luckily, on pegasus-back, landing is simply a case of finding a suitable spot and telling Blackjack where to go.

It's not always an exact science, especially when you're trying to fend off monsters at the same time - I swear, I could teach a class on aerial combat at Camp - but the pegasi know what they're doing, so at worst you overshoot by a block. This time, it was just fine.

We were flying over a town, so I just directed Blackjack down, and down we went. The sudden descent made my stomach swoop like it had the one and only time I'd experienced a plane landing, and I felt Nico squeeze my waist a bit tighter. It reminded me of how I'd stroked his hair this morning, and I felt kind of embarrassed. Thanks, ADHD and its associated lack of impulse control.

But his hair _had_ been soft and silky.

The town wasn't much bigger than the one we'd had lunch with in Iowa, but it was cuter: more stone buildings about and something a little old-fashioned about it all. More money, I guess. We landed in about the centre of town, next to a little stone bandstand, and none of the few passers-by paid any attention to two teenaged demigods or the flying horse who'd brought us. The wonders of the Mist.

"Sorry, buddy," I told Blackjack, "there's no water source here." Blackjack could go a lot longer without water than a normal horse, but I still felt bad. Maybe we could find a bucket and fill it with tap water.

Blackjack snorted contemptuously. _Humans! Why would you settle somewhere without a river?_

"Beats me." _I_ sure wouldn't.

Nico had already slid off the pegasus' back, and I followed him. Well, I was sure getting an education in small-town America. I'd seen more of the flyover states since I turned twelve than I could ever have dreamed. So far, I'd found that most of them basically looked the same, and that I kind of missed New York.

We headed off down what looked like a main street, looking for somewhere to stay. I was surprised when I looked at my watch and found that it was only eight P.M. Nebraska time, but pegasus travel has this way of compressing time.

"Is it just me," Nico began - and I jumped, because he hadn't spoken since Iowa - "or are there an awful lot of people around?"

Now, my idea of how crowded public places should usually be might not match up with other people's if they don't live somewhere like New York City. But even to my eyes, there were an unusually large number of people hanging around.

"For eight at night in a small town like this, the place is packed." Nico was looking around dubiously. "What do you want to bet there's some kind of festival for hillbillies going on here?"

"Not sure this is the right place for hillbillies, but I think you're onto something." The crowds grew thicker as we went on, which I was pretty sure meant we were getting closer to the center of town. And despite what I'd just said about hillbillies, there were an awful lot of cowboy hats about. On the bright side, there were also a bunch of food stalls, which enabled us to get dinner. Nico and I both get _seriously_ cranky without food.

At least we worked out where we were: Broken Bow, Nebraska, population 3,559 and the county seat of Custer County. Unfortunately, this didn't help us so much, because next to the sign proclaiming all this was another sign advertising a country music weekend - happening right now. That explained the cowboy hats.

It also didn't bode well for our accomodation. I was hoping for a motel bed and particularly a motel shower, rather than the collapsible Camp Half Blood tent in my backpack. It's had its moments - I get all nostalgic when the thing pops up - but at heart, I'm just not really a camping guy.

So we made for the outskirts of town, where the ground was sandy and there was a big highway, hoping for a motel. And we found one: Gateway Motel 1. I spent way too long trying to work out whether this was like the Mighty Leap Diner. Could the 'gateway' be the gates to the Underworld? Was a gate enough like a door that Janus might pop up? I walk into traps all the time because of my total lack of mythological knowledge all the time, but I'm trying to get better. Half the time I still walk in anyway, but at least I _know_ I'm walking into a trap, which kind of makes it better. Sometimes.

In the end, it turned out to be a perfectly normal motel. I kept an eye out for Minotaur-leg umbrella stands or any sign that the desk attendant might be an empousa, but no: just your normal slightly-nicer-than-average motel.

Of course, there was still a problem. The problem was the room, and the damn hillbillies-slash-country-music-enthusiasts.

"We've only got one room left," said the attendant apologetically, "and I'm afraid it's only one bed. It is a queen, though," she added hopefully, glancing between us as if trying to size up whether we would both fit. I was pretty sure that if we'd fit in that sleeping bag then we'd fit in a queen-sized bed, but I wasn't about to say that in front of her.

Nico just looked more dead than usual. Neither of us could complain: if there were no more rooms, then there were no more rooms, and getting mad at the desk attendant who probably only made minimum wage wouldn't help. It was a room with a bed and a shower. We could put up with it for one night.

"Fine," I said as graciously as I could. The desk attendant looked relieved.

And that was how Nico and I ended up sharing a bed in a Nebraska motel.

It's not like it's that weird to share a bed with a bed with your male friend, I guess. If you're pre-teens. And actually friends. I mean, I kept trying to be Nico's friend, but he wouldn't let me, so we were kind of stuck as distant acquaintances who kept saving each other's lives.

So yeah, it was kind of weird. The last person I'd shared a bed with was Annabeth, and, literal bed-sharing aside, the two situations were in no way comparable. Though Nico probably wished Annabeth were here instead of me. _I_ kind of wished Annabeth were here instead of me. Nico liked her better and she'd know what to say.

Nico took the first shower while I contacted Camp. Wouldn't want Chiron to worry that we'd been eaten by the Hydra back in Iowa or something, though it would disappoint Mr. D, who no doubt was hoping that we _had_ been eaten.

It was too dark to use the sun to make a rainbow, so I got out my torch, a white t-shirt and a tiny mist-maker, plus the glass of water I'd grabbed from the bathroom earlier. It doesn't make as big a screen as a carwash or a fountain, but it's a lot more portable.

Chiron was in horse-form when he answered, with a quiver slung over his back. He looked a lot less grey than he had the last time I'd seen him, and his beard and coat looked shiny and groomed. The effect was pretty impressive, even with the teacher glasses and button-down shirt. He looked like the guy who'd taught Achilles everything he knew.

He didn't like the Gorgon sisters turning up, but agreed that if they were the only monsters we'd encountered so far, we were doing well.

"Was it really that easy?" he asked sceptically when I recounted the battle.

"Yeah, it was." I was slightly offended that he didn't think we were capable of it. "I was surprised too, but I guess Nico and I work well together." We had done in the past too, just like me and Jason, and I guess probably Jason and Nico too.

"Hm." Chiron stroked his beard. "Maybe the Gorgons have been weakened by Gaia's defeat."

I gave up.

"Yeah, maybe," I said in a way that suggested I thought it was unlikely. "Anyway, we've gotta crash now. I'll message Camp again when we've got this flower-thing." Chiron's eyes narrowed at the words 'flower-thing', and I hastily broke the connection. He didn't need to know that I still wasn't perfectly sure what we'd come all this way for.

"Bathroom's free," said Nico behind me, making me jump about a foot. Somebody should put a bell on that kid. I swear he does it deliberately.

Nico had come out of the bathroom without me noticing. His hair was wet, but he was fully dressed again. I can't say that I find sleeping in jeans all that comfortable, but if that was how he wanted it, I wasn't going to say anything. I didn't want to get my head bitten off.

A shower made me feel better in the same way as my dip in the Cedar River had earlier. Sure, I like getting clean as much as the next guy, but it's more than that. When I'm surrounded by my own element, it's like the water is healing injuries I didn't even know were there. I'd spent a month in Dad's palace after we defeated Gaia. It helped with the nightmares.

I didn't want to hog the bathroom, but Nico was done, and I had, you know, other needs. I closed my eyes and didn't think of anything in particular for a few minutes. It was only the normal thing for a teenage boy to do after two days on the road with no privacy. For all I knew, Nico has been doing the exact same thing in here ten minutes ago.

Of course, I'd forgotten to take my clothes into the bathroom with me, so I had to come out in only a towel and a cloud of steam. Nico was sitting on one side of the bed, minus his boots, reading a small book with a colourful dustjacket. He looked up, caught sight of my bare chest, and quickly looked down at his book again. I was in a good mood, so I just found his unexpected prudishness...quaint, I guess. It reminded me that he'd been born in the same era as Hazel.

I guess I could have taken my clothes into the bathroom and got dressed there, but I didn't feel like it. We were about to share a bed: me putting on my underwear on one side of the room while he stared fixedly at his book on the other was no more than I'd done with other guys in the room before.

Besides, Nico might as well get used to shirtless guys, because he was going to see a lot of them when I convinced him or dragged him back to Camp. Some of the Apollo guys in particular aren't shy about letting it all hang out on warm days. I think I've seen more of Will Solace's bare chest than I have Annabeth's. When he's not in scrubs, the guy's practically an exhibitionist.

Will had kept asking after Nico, actually, when he vanished. I'd felt bad that I never had any news for him. Of course, now that I had him I could deliver him direct to the medical tent where Will would no doubt keep him captive until he was satisfied Nico wasn't about to dissolve into shadow.

Yeah, I'd heard about that from Reyna. It was another reason I'd insisted on taking Blackjack rather than just relying on Nico's shadow-travel. That, and how I don't like the feeling of my internal organs being squeezed through a keyhole.

I hadn't said anything about it to Nico, of course. He wouldn't stop shadow-travelling just because I asked, and he didn't want my sympathy. If I said I was worried about it, he'd just blow me off like he did when I tried to talk to him before he took the Athena Parthenos. I hadn't said anything to set him off yet, and I really wanted to keep it that way. I was tired of fighting with him when I hadn't wanted a fight in the first place. I've never exactly been renowned for my subtlely, but with Nico you have to go softly-softly. Or at least you do if you're me.

We managed to get into bed with the minimum amount of awkwardness we could manage. I hadn't put my jeans on, and Nico hadn't taken his off. I guess it takes all kinds, though personally I've had to sleep in jeans enough times that my modesty isn't worth the discomfort.

I spared a thought for Blackjack, who had flown off in search of the nearest woodland and hopefully a river. I could hardly believe that he was going to be a dad. To be honest, I was slightly more excited about the baby pegasus on the way than I would have liked to admit. I felt like I was going to be an uncle, and my niece or nephew was going to be a lot cuter than any human baby I'd ever seen.

I'm pretty sure Nico fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. We'd started out facing away from each other, but I turned over and considered him in the grey half-light of the motel room. He'd curled up in a ball under the covers, like he was protecting himself even in sleep.

You don't have to do that, I wanted to tell him. You don't have to be strong all the time. I'll protect you.

I'd always felt that way about Nico - protective. Even when he was an annoying ten year old who wouldn't shut up or stop asking uncomfortable questions, I definitely had the nagging sense I should look after him. The age gap was only three years, but he'd been a little kid and I was a teenager.

Then Bianca had died inside that Talos, and I had to break the news. And after that, I'd felt responsible for him. Whatever happened, wherever I was, Nico always crossed my mind. Where was he? What was he doing? I was always happy to see him, even though it always meant that things were about to get exponentially more complicated, because it proved he was still alive. And along the way I stopped thinking of him as a kid, or three years younger than me, even though he was. He seemed to become weirdly grown-up almost overnight.

I was still protective of him, though. I worried about him. It was stupid, because he was tough - at least as tough as me once he'd got in enough practice with shadow-travelling and skeleton-summoning that he could do it without passing out. But he was still shorter and skinnier and paler than the rest of us, with huge dark eyes, and I guess maybe that triggered some kind of demented nurturing instinct.

It wasn't just because of the promise I'd made to Bianca, though that was part of it. I still remembered Nico as a chatty, excitable, kind of geeky ten year old, and I felt responsible for the way he was now. I didn't get Bianca killed, I know that, but I kept feeling like I'd let Nico down in some way, or that he felt I had. After Bianca's ghost showed me Nico in the Underworld, I felt like that was a hint: I trust you to stop him from making bad choices.

But then, I'd made some pretty bad choices myself. I looked at the gulf of bedsheets between us, and closed my eyes. The busy day crashed over me, and quickly pulled me down into sleep.

I had the dream about Jason and Nico again. Same place, same scene. Jason looked startled and concerned. Nico kept blinking and biting his lip, and I realised that he was on the verge of tears. Jason made a face like he was upset and didn't know what to do. I felt the same way.

Next thing I knew, it was morning and I was heavy. Correction: there was something heavy on me. I opened my eyes to find my face buried in silky black hair. Well, well, who'd have thought it: Nico di Angelo, sleep cuddler. He had his arm round my waist and an icy foot between my calves. Somebody get this kid some bedsocks.

I shifted my legs and realised that he must have taken off his jeans at some point. I wasn't surprised: seriously, jeans make very bad pyjamas.

I wriggled a bit more to get my arm somewhere it wasn't being bent at a weird angle, and found that we were now in an even more awkward position. My morning wood was pressing into his stomach, and I was pretty sure that was _his_ morning wood pressing into my hip. Yeah, I really should have seen that coming. You put a guy in bed with another warm body, and his dick will have an opinion.

I tried to wriggle out of Nico's limpet-like embrace, but the guy was sound asleep and I guess he was probably dreaming of Annabeth or Reyna or something, because he would _not_ let me go. I didn't really want to wake him up by shaking him, because if he thought me taking off my shirt in front of him was pushing the limits of decency, he might just up and die of embarrassment if he woke up to find our boners practically touching.

Screw it, I eventually decided, after failing to unwind his arms from my torso. Blackjack hadn't turned up yet, and we both needed to be at full strength to make this cross-country journey without getting killed. No boners were _actually_ touching. I could cope with this. I closed my eyes, ignored the awkward position we were in, and drifted back into sleep with Nico attached to me like a koala.

It was heavy and hot but also, though I would never have told him so, kind of cute. I'm not cuddly like Jason, who likes to literally sweep people off their feet and break their ribs; but I felt that maybe I owed Nico a few hugs, and he definitely wasn't going to ask for them when he was awake.

When I woke up again, Blackjack was rapping on the window with a stick he was holding in his mouth, and Nico was in the bathroom. It was time for us to be on the road again.

I shooed Nico - fully dressed once more - out of the tiny bathroom so I could brush my teeth. He shuffled past me clutching a comb, and somehow managed to squeeze past my in the narrow doorway without any part of our bodies touching. When I came out of the bathroom the comb was away and his hair looked as messy as ever, so I don't know if he ever actually used it or if it was just symbolic. For all I knew it was actually an Underworld comb that turned into a skeleton army if broken. That seemed like the kind of thing Hades would give his son as a present.

Blackjack bore us aloft and headed west again. It was cloudy and overcast, but not raining. I hoped it stayed that way: travel by pegasus-back is a lot less fun in the rain. Nebraska was huge, and we'd definitely have to make a stop-off in the state sometime today, but we were planning to make it to Colorado by nightfall.

About an hour in, we stopped by a river so that Blackjack could drink. Nico was avoiding my eyes, like he had been since this morning. I figured he'd realised about the boners-almost-touching thing. It was slightly awkward. Still, I couldn't muster up much embarrassment. No boners had actually touched, and on the long list of weird and embarrassing shit I'd been through, some unintentional sleep-cuddling barely made the list. Maybe I was finally growing up?

Being grown-up also meant sucking it up and doing the responsible thing, unfortunately. So even though Nico was in an especially uncommunicative mood that morning, I had to ask:

"Hey, Nico, what happened with you and Jason in Croatia?"

First, Nico went white. Then he went red. His mouth opened, then slammed shut as he compressed his lips into a thin bloodless line. He looked _guilty_. Holy Hades, I hadn't expected _that_ reaction.

"That's none of your business," he managed to say, mostly without opening his mouth. Well, I could hardly claim that I hadn't known that would set him off. But I knew that it was important, and I _knew_ that that little glance to the side meant that it _was_ , somehow, something to do with me.

"Nico, I've had a dream about it twice now." Nico looked like I'd stabbed him with Riptide. "I think it's significant. All I see is you and Jason looking upset, like _really_ upset, and scared." Even more upset and scared than he looked now.

Nico shook his head fiercely, his long hair flying in his face. He looked like he wished very, very desperately to be anywhere but here. What could have happened in Croatia to make him look like _that_?

"Drop it," he said hoarsely. He looked willing to shadow-travel out of there and leave me and Blackjack in Two Miles Past The Back Of Beyond, Nebraska, if I didn't. So, reluctantly, I dropped it.

Let me tell you: being grown-up _sucks_.

We flew on in silence. OK, we pretty much always fly in silence because trying to carry on a conversation on a pegasus is like trying it on a motorbike, but this silence had a definite uncomfortable edge.

It made me wish, for the second time, that somebody else was here. Jason and Nico had got close when they were on the _Argo_. Nico had even told him that he was leaving for good. He hadn't told me. I'd seen Jason and Nico talking at Camp after we defeated Gaia, and remembering it made me envy their easy friendship. Nico was never at ease with me.

Will Solace was the other candidate. Will manages to be both extremely bossy and good with feelings, which means that if he decides you need a heart-to-heart, you have a heart-to-heart whether you like it or not. If he was here, Nico would probably have poured his heart out by now, though maybe not by choice, and allowed Will to wrap a friendly arm around his shoulders. Will has that effect on people.

But I wasn't Will, I wasn't Jason, and Nico hated me. So here we were, on Blackjack who clearly thought we were both idiots, flying over dusty Nebraska grassland and praying to any god who might be listening to get us to California sooner.

It was a relief to land. It didn't lift the mood, but it let us stretch our legs and kept Nico from gnawing on my shoulder with hunger. Nico was going to have to take us on from here with shadow-travel, because if I sat on Blackjack any longer my legs were going to seize up and I was going to start walking like John Wayne.

I'd assumed we'd landed in a town, but a sign proudly proclaimed that in fact we were in Scottsbluff, Nebraska, which was a city. It looked like a small town to me, but I'll admit that I'm biased.

We found a diner, and without talking we both stared through the window at the staff, trying to work out if any of them were actually Gorgons or empousai or manticores. The first diner we found had a woman who looked a bit too much like Echidna for comfort sitting at one of its tables. We looked at each other, and quickly moved on. The second diner we came to looked fine, and nobody tried to take our entrails along with our orders, so I cautiously put it down as 'safe'.

"Hey, Nico," I said when eventually the silence got too much, "do you have to do this every time you go to see Hazel?" If he was, that was definitely too much shadow-travelling, and I'd have to drag him to the Apollo cabin by the ear when we got back to Camp.

"No." Nico paused in inhaling his sandwich. "If it's just me, I travel to the Underworld at the New York entrance and come out in LA." Another mouthful, minimal chewing. I guess I _had_ wanted him to start eating again after his imprisonment. "But I can't take you to the Underworld with me unless you're planning to move in permanently, so we're doing this the long way."

Put that way, it made me sound like an inconvenience.

"Sorry," I offered. "I thought you'd have to go overground, and I didn't want you going alone. I realise that you, like, hate me." I thought we might as well get that in the open.

Nico's eyebrows shot up. Then he put down his sandwich, which was pretty serious.

"Percy, I don't - I don't hate you." He was so surprised that he was looking me full in the face. He never did that these days, so I guess he meant it.

"Thanks, dude, but, uh, you've been doing a pretty good impression of somebody who hates my guts."

Nico looked down.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. I was starting to wonder what I'd done wrong." I was wondering it again, because now Nico looked sad. "You just...always act like you can't wait to get away from me."

Inexplicably, Nico laughed. Two tables over, a blonde girl moved to a chair further away from us.

"Sorry," he said again. He sounded bitter, though I didn't know why. "You're right. I should stop being an asshole and taking it out on you."

Taking _what_ out on me, I nearly asked. Then I remembered Bianca. He'd said a few years ago that he'd stopped blaming me, but I guess some scars run deep.

I didn't know what to say about that - 'Sorry about your still tragically dead sister' didn't seem to cut it - so instead I changed the subject and asked how his living sister was doing.

"Hazel's fine," he said, sitting up like he always did when Hazel was mentioned. It was kind of sweet, especially in a guy who to my knowledge hadn't been excited about anything since he was ten. I liked Hazel, and it made me really glad that Nico had a sister again.

"Yeah?" I picked up my own sandwich again. "I've not seen her much recently, but sometimes she's with Reyna when we IM."

It suddenly occurred to me to that maybe Nico would have done better with one of those big Italian families, with loads of sisters and aunts and uncles and cousins. The ten year old Nico I'd met would have been thrilled with plenty of relatives to pester.

But now he just had Hazel, and he obviously loved her as much as he had Bianca. The cheek-kissing and cuddling was cute because it was so totally not what you'd expect from Nico, but I guess that's just how the Italians are. Hazel was a good influence on him.

There was Hades too, I guess, but even though Nico got on well with his dad these days, he didn't really count. I understood the desire to impress your godly parent, but I wanted him to spent _less_ time in the Underworld, not more. The visitor policy down there is pretty harsh.

That left me and Jason as his next closest relatives, in as much as we could be related given that the gods have no DNA. I squinted at him across the formica table. Yeah, I'd feel comfortable referring to this guy as my cousin, if anyone asked.

It was a nice moment, a nice conversation, and we left the diner in comfortable silence. Which is probably why everything went to Hades shortly after. Monsters have some kind of sixth sense that makes them appear at _exactly_ the right moment to ruin your day.

I guess I should have realised when a couple of huge guys in numbered sweatshirts appeared in the crowd. Then I saw a couple more. Realistically, how many people in Nowhere, Nebraska do you think care about ice hockey?

But neither Nico nor I were really paying attention, and so we completely missed the signs - until there were a good ten of them following us and more melting out of side-streets.

 _Uh, Boss?_ Blackjack ruffled his wings. _Do you think these guys look like they eat pegasus? I think they look like they eat pegasus._

"In my experience, they're into something a little...smaller. More bipedal." My hand was on Riptide in my pocket and I didn't need to look to know that Nico was on the verge of drawing his sword, but more and more of them were appearing and I didn't like our chances. We'd done well to dispatch those two Gorgons so quickly, and I'd even enjoyed it because it had proved to Nico that we made a good team; but there was no way this fight could end well for us without some serious godly help.

Which we didn't get, of course. I wasn't massively surprised: the gods don't come down and interfere in everything their children do. But it would have been nice to know that somebody up there had our backs.

"Hey, Nico," I said as the looming figures grew closer and loomier, "time to split?"

Before he could answer me, the Laestrygonians moved in for the kill.

I like to think I did OK in that fight, didn't embarrass the demigod name or anything, but to be perfectly honest, I haven't a clue. There were too many of them for me to think up any kind of sensible strategy: if there was an ugly eight-foot-tall cannibal's face in front of me, I hacked and slashed. I can't claim much finesse was involved, but it was pretty effective as hack-n-slash tactics go.

But there were still too many, even with Nico behind me, guarding my back. I felt his right hand grab my upper arm and then we were falling away from the Laestrygonians, passing through darkness that felt as oppressive as the Underworld itself.

We landed with the crunch of leaves and tall trees towering over us up to the blue sky. Nico's grip on my arm suddenly went slack, and I had to lunge to grab him before he hit the ground. I picked him up in a bridal carry - hey, he was passed out, it wasn't like he was going to know - and checked the area.

No monsters I could see, just rocks and trees. I thought we might be in the Rocky Mountains, but my Colorado geography is shaky to nonexistent, and I wasn't even sure that the Rocky Mountains were in Colorado at all.

Blackjack whinnied doubtfully. _Higher ground, boss?_

"If we can get to it." We'd come out at the bottom of a cliff, and the tree cover was too dense for Blackjack to get a clear take-off.

We didn't find higher ground, in the end, but we _did_ find a whole load of caves. It looked like we were going camping again. Great. I settled Nico more comfortably in my arms and set off towards what looked like the biggest entrance. Please, I prayed to any god who might be listening, don't let it be a hideout for the Chimera or something.

If it was the Chimera's lair, the Chimera wasn't there and there was a remarkable lack of bones. All I saw were leaves. I guessed we were sleeping here tonight, then.

"You coming in, buddy?" I asked Blackjack, who snorted and turned his back. I guessed not, then. Note to self: pegasi don't like small, enclosed spaces.

Nico was light in my arms - too light. He seemed very small, very young, and very thin. I had to put him down to put up the tent and set us up for the night, but just for a moment I didn't want to. I couldn't feel any body heat coming through his clothes, and I was terrified that if I let go of him he might just disappear.

I stayed frozen for a long moment, feeling Nico breathe in and out, his ribcage expanding and contracting. It was fine: he wasn't turning transparent or insubstantial. He'd just passed out from exhaustion. I made my breathing match his and did my best to calm down.

Eventually, I set Nico down carefully on the floor and got the tent out of my bag.

I'd set up this tent so many times that I was a pro. If we ever ran competitions over who could put up their Camp tent fastest, I would definitely medal. Up went the two-man tent, in went the sleeping bags. It took me at least eight goes to start a fire - look, my Dad's domain doesn't lend itself to awesome powers with matches - but once I managed it I was as proud as that guy who made a glass bowl that didn't break.

Nico slept through all of it, including me picking him up again and rolling him into a sleeping bag. It was a good thing he was light, because he was a total dead weight. It made me glad I'd come with him on this not-quest, even if he was standoffish and acted like he couldn't stand me most of the time. If he overextended himself and passed out on his own, he could have been prey for any casually roaming monster. Nico was willing to push himself to the very limits of his own powers, way beyond what was safe, and I didn't like how vulnerable it left him.

I knew there was no point in telling him this: he'd tell me where I could stick my concern, and probably not that politely, either. But it was that stupid responsibility I felt rearing its head again. And, despite how surly he'd been towards me for the past two years, I _liked_ Nico. Even when he pissed me off - and he did pretty regularly - I still considered him a friend. Though I wasn't sure he'd say the same about me. I'd never been able to figure Nico out.

It was chilly in the cave, even allowing for the tent trapping our body heat, and the temperature would drop further as night fell. After some heaving and tugging - OK, a lot - I managed to more or less zip our sleeping bags together, so we could share body heat while still being able to breathe. Nico slept through the whole thing, of course. I was envious. I would love to be able to sleep that deeply. If he dreamed of Tartarus like I still did, I couldn't tell.

So I put my arm around Nico and closed my eyes. I didn't feel awkward any more about basically cuddling Nico. After sharing a sleeping bag and then sharing a bed and waking up with him attached to me, I guess I'd got used to it. It was Nico who made it awkward every time, but he was already passed out.

To be honest, I'd missed sharing a bed with somebody else. I liked the simple animal comfort of Nico's warm body tucked into mine. I'd even started to find the smell of his hair comforting, which was something I was never going to admit to another living soul.

I rarely thought of Nico as being three years younger than me, even though he was, but close up our size difference made it clear. Nico fit neatly under my arm, and I felt some of the old, pointless protectiveness well up in me as I drifted off to sleep. I drowsily wished I'd been able to do this to eleven year old Nico. He'd needed it.

Of course, I had the dream again. It replaced the dreams of Tartarus, so I couldn't complain, but Jason and Nico's expressions unsettled me.

This time, the camera dollied out until I could see what had made them look that way. Their opponent was a frighteningly beautiful guy with wings and a bow, and an ageless look that I knew meant he was some kind of immortal. He had long black hair, and when he looked my way I saw that his eyes were blood red. I watched him shoot an arrow that hit Nico's arm, then dissolved. He looked like Thanatos, but crueller.

There was no sound in the dream, but I saw everybody's mouths move. Jason and Nico were obviously arguing with the guy - the god - but he was totally impassive. He didn't get angry with them: he just waited. He reminded me of Aphrodite telling me my love-life would be interesting, like she was looking forward to watching it.

Remembering Aphrodite made me realise why this guy was so familiar, and why he used a bow. This was Eros, Love himself - and Aphrodite's son. His dad was Ares, so I wasn't surprised to discover that he was a total jerk.

But what could he have wanted with Jason and Nico?

In the dream, Nico's face crumpled and more skeletons surged out of the ground. The dream faded out.

I woke up to light filtering through the thin tent walls. Nico was still safely tucked up against me, snoring quietly. There was no wind outside, just the occasional faint snatch of bird song. The tent was small and the sleeping bag was warm. It felt...intimate. You know how teen movies show girls sharing all their deepest secrets in the dark at sleepovers? It felt like that. It was a still, suspended moment.

I didn't know whether Nico would have felt the same if he'd been awake. He'd told me he didn't hate me, and to his credit he'd stopped acting like it, but I still got the feeling that he was uncomfortable around me. If I had to explain it, I would say that it was like he wanted something from me, but he didn't want to want it and he wasn't going to tell me what he wanted. Frankly, it was pretty frustrating.

And yet I still felt close to him. He'd spent time with Bob down in the Underworld, and he'd told the Titan that I was a friend. He'd said such good things that Bob had helped Annabeth and me when we'd fallen into Tartarus. You don't do that for people you hate. You have to think pretty highly of somebody to talk them up to a janitor-Titan, and to repeatedly save their life.

I remembered my Mom telling me, _you can't fix everybody's problems, honey,_ and sighed, ruffling Nico's hair. Mom was right, as usual. If Nico needed me to come and beat up a monster, I could do that; but if he didn't want to talk about what was in his head, I couldn't help him. I just hoped he could talk it out with Hazel. Like Will, Hazel was the kind of person you'd feel OK with pouring out your troubles to.

Maybe even love troubles. I wondered again what Eros had been saying to Jason and Nico. Jason had looked upset, but he'd been looking at Nico, while Nico had looked like he was in agony. So my guess was that Eros had said something directed at Nico, and Jason had just been along for the ride. I remembered the rumour going around our friend-group that he had a crush on Annabeth. Could Eros have been taunting him about that?

Next to me, Nico stopped snoring. I considered moving away so he wouldn't wake up to me spooning him for the third time in a week, then stayed where I was. I was warm and comfortable. If Nico was uncomfortable, _he_ could move.

Nico didn't move. I felt him twitch as he slid into consciousness, but he didn't immediately throw my arm off and bolt from the tent. He stiffened up, like he had last time I'd put my arm over him. But he stayed, a little tense under my arm but willing to bear it. Maybe he felt how fragile the air was in our little tent.

Slowly, he relaxed. I thought maybe he was going back to sleep, but he didn't start snoring. We both lay there, awake but on the soft edge of sleep, wrapped up in our cozy sleeping bag. Despite the rocks and leaves and spiders, it was the most comfortable I'd been in months.

So naturally, I had to go and open my big mouth to ruin it.

"Nico, I realise you don't want to talk about it." I stared at the back of his head, willing him to open up. "But this is the third dream I've had about you and Jason in Croatia, and I think it's relevant to what we're trying to do. Tell me what you were doing there with Eros, please." I tried to speak gently, but also make it clear that I really needed to know.

I heard Nico sigh, but it was a sigh that said _I'm ready to talk_. I was getting good at this responsible adult thing.

"Cupid," said Nico very quietly, like the words were being dragged out of him. "He was in his Roman form." He hadn't rolled over to face me, so I had to strain to hear him. "I don't - I won't tell you all of it. But Cupid told me some things I really didn't want to hear. It was stuff I didn't want to admit." His voice dropped to nearly a whisper. "It was embarrassing, especially with Jason there."

"Oh. I'm sorry." That seemed inadequate, but I couldn't come up with anything better. Nico had curled up again, like remembering what Cupid had said to him made him feel small and defensive. "You looked really upset," I offered.

"I was angry." Nico sighed again, then snorted. "No, I wasn't just angry. I felt humiliated, because it was a _secret_ and Cupid _forced_ me to tell Jason." He was getting really agitated now, like the memory had upset him all over again. I kept my voice very even. If I'm totally honest, I did my best to channel my Mom when she needs to have a serious conversation with me.

"Well, you don't have to tell me what it is. I'm not Cupid, and I can't _make_ you tell me. But since we're trying to be friends, I'd be glad if you did, some time." I didn't want to make it sound like I was trying to lay a guilt trip on him, but this friendship was going to have to include some mutual trust. And I was as curious as the proverbial cat about this secret.

Nico snorted.

"Trust me, you wouldn't want to be friends with me if you knew."

I didn't want to say it, because if it had been me in that situation I would have been so embarrassed I could die: but I had to clear the air.

"Look, Nico." I paused, but forced myself to continue. "If this is because you have a crush on Annabeth, that's not going to change my mind. It wouldn't change my mind even if we were still dating."

"Annabeth? You think I have a crush on _Annabeth_?" Nico was so startled that he rolled over to face me. I don't know what face I was making, but he burst into incredulous barking laughter.

"I guess it's not Annabeth, then," I said when he'd stopped. I was slightly offended on Annabeth's behalf: it wasn't ridiculous that a guy might have a crush on her. I bet loads of guys had crushed on her. I bet some guy had a crush on her right now; maybe she even had a crush on him in return. Some guy who wasn't me.

"No," said Nico. His hair was in his face, but he was a little bit pink in the cheeks and he was still smiling a tiny smile. For a moment, I could see the ten year old I met who wanted to know all about what a son of Poseidon could do and tell me all about Mythomagic.

His smile turned bitter.

"No," he said again, "it's not Annabeth."

Then he managed to crawl out of our sleeping bag and out of the tent, and I had to follow him to start the day.

The weather was mild, but definitely colder than yesterday. Autumn was truly settling in here, and in the cool morning sunlight I could see the red and orange leaves as they crunched under our feet.

Blackjack was waiting for us at the cave entrance, peaceably chewing on some kind of herb or grass. Pegasi were generally pretty chill - in total contrast to horses, Hazel once told me - but Blackjack was, to use one of Piper's expressions, so laid back he was practically horizontal. It made us a good fit.

"Morning," I said to him, giving his nose a stroke. The skin around a pegasus' mouth is soft and velvety, and once you've touched it once it's hard to stop petting it. It's not where Blackjack most likes to be stroked - that would be his forehead, underneath his jaw, and on top of his tail - but he's always been very patient with me poking at him. I didn't grow up around horses, hadn't even seen one in the flesh before I came to Camp; but now I thought that if I ever had to go somewhere without any, I'd miss them.

 _Morning, Boss._ Blackjack nuzzled my shoulder and raised one hind hoof to scratch his other hind leg. Nico hung back, maybe because he wanted to be polite. I remembered again Blackjack telling me how Nico had snuck him the occasional carrot.

"Hey, Nico, c'mere and show our ride some appreciation."

Nico's eyebrows shot up, he shoved his hands deeper into his jacket pockets, and for a moment I thought he was going to refuse. But then Blackjack left me alone to wander over to him, and gently bumped his nose against Nico's chest.

Faced with a pegasus bending his head to demand attention, Nico's reserve crumbled like an overbaked cookie. There aren't many people who can stay totally stoic while scratching an affectionate pegasus behind the ears, and I don't think I'd be friends with any of them.

When we eventually climbed on board, everybody was a lot more relaxed. We were heading for Utah, and aiming to get to Nevada by nightfall. If everything went according to plan, we should be in California tomorrow. And I _still_ didn't know what exactly we were looking for. I should ask Nico when we next made a stop.

I got to thinking about Nico's little confession this morning. I hadn't had to literally sit on him to squeeze it out of him, which I had been vaguely considering, but the more I thought about it, the more it stung that it had taken him this long to trust me. Did I just come off like a guy you couldn't trust with personal stuff, even if it was quest-related?

But then, I guess I hadn't been such a great friend. He'd vanished from Camp a couple of weeks after the Titan War, and I hadn't been able to stop him because I'd barely noticed that I hadn't seen him around much. I'd been so caught up with Annabeth that I just hadn't paid much attention to anything else. Then we'd met up only I didn't remember him; then by the time I'd got my memories back he'd already been captured; then only minutes after we got him out I followed Annabeth into Tartarus, and once I got back from _that_ he'd gone off with Reyna, Hedge and the Athena Parthenos. We just kept missing each other.

This quest had seemed like the perfect chance to get round that: you learnt a lot about people when you were stuck in close quarters with them for a week, even if all you learnt was how much they annoyed you. And I _had_ learnt things about Nico. He'd even finally talked a bit about Bianca, very obliquely. But he had a secret, a secret about what Cupid had told him in Croatia - a secret that Jason knew and I didn't.

_You wouldn't want to be friends with me if you knew._

Well, I now knew that he wasn't crushing on Annabeth, like I'd thought. Literally the only person I could think of who would be _that bad_ for Nico to have a crush on was Hazel.

I let myself really consider that for a minute. It wouldn't be 'dating within your cabin' in the most technical sense because Nico was Greek and Hazel was Roman, but they definitely thought of themselves as brother and sister. Hazel was the only person I'd ever seen Nico hug willingly and enthusiastically: he let Jason crush the breath out of him, sure, but that wasn't the same. He was openly affectionate with Hazel: I'd seen him kiss her forehead or cheek and hold her hands, which he'd never have done with anyone else.

 _Except Bianca,_ I thought. He'd been so close to Bianca and so obsessed with getting her back from the Underworld - he really valued what little family he had left. Maybe the cuddliness was just an Italian thing and I was overthinking it. I was building incestuous bricks out of perfectly familial straw.

We stopped off in Provo, Utah. Basically the only things I know about Utah are Mormons and the Utahraptor. We didn't see any dinosaurs, but we sure saw a lot of Mormons. I mean, they weren't wearing badges saying 'Hi, I'm a Mormon!' or anything, but in Geography class they told us that the population of Provo was ninety-eight per cent Mormon, so I extrapolated.

Apart from all the buildings with the initials 'LDS' on, it looked a lot like Des Moines and every other big city in the USA. We were in search of a suitably boring diner when excitement found us.

A deer ran across the street in front of us, and paused. At first I assumed that this was just one of those weird things that happen in some cities, like basically everything on the New York subway, that the natives just ignore. Then I realised that not only was nobody paying attention to the deer, they didn't even seem to have noticed it.

I looked at Nico. He looked at me and made a face. Blackjack snorted.

Silently, we agreed to follow the deer. If it really was a normal deer, we'd look pretty stupid; but if it wasn't and we ignored the godly summons, we might look pretty dead.

The deer led us out of the city. Of course it did. It was probably luring us to our deaths, I thought gloomily. We shot through Provo on Blackjack's back as he cantered to keep up with the quick-darting deer. We were heading for the huge mountain that loomed over the city like Mount Rushmore over the badlands of South Dakota.

The deer didn't slow down: she just stopped dead. Blackjack stopped dead too, so hard that I had to cling to his neck to stay on, because a bear had just prowled out of the trees ahead of us.

The grizzly watched us with silver-yellow eyes. I didn't know what colour eyes grizzlies usually had, but I recognised these.

"Lady Artemis," I addressed the bear. _Nice bear, nice bear. Please don't let this be Actaeon: Redux._

After a painful pause, the bear suddenly transformed into a girl.

"Demigods." Artemis didn't exactly smile, but she didn't look unhappy to see us; which, given that we were boys, was probably the best we could have hoped for. "I know what your quest is for, and how you will complete it." She did? Great, that was more than I knew. "You did me a service once, and I intend to return it."

She hold out her hand. Nestled in her palm was a tiny golden knife, like Piper's Katoptris except even smaller.

"I cannot avert the misfortunes that await you," Artemis told us once I'd leaned forward and accepted the knife. "But I may alleviate some suffering."

And before I could ask her what in Hades she was on about, she changed back into a grizzly - Blackjack took a nervous step back - and with a flash of her silver-yellow eyes was gone.

I didn't really know what to say after that. I guess Nico didn't either, because Blackjack carried us back to Provo in silence. I'd put the knife in my pocket, and it felt warm against my leg. I didn't like the sound of these 'misfortunes', but I wasn't even surprised: realistically, this kind of thing happened to me about twice a week. By now, I just thought of it as part of being a demigod.

"Hey, Nico," I said when we'd found our boring diner and were waiting for our food, "do you get attacked by monsters all the time? Just, you know, randomly?"

Nico squinted at me. "Define 'all the time'."

"Uh, once or twice a week?"

"Yeah, same. I go looking for it, though, doing stuff for my dad. You're just like...a trouble magnet."

"It's not _my_ fault monsters find me irresistible," I grumbled. Nico's face did a funny thing and he opened his mouth like he was going to say something - but then our food arrived and we didn't talk for a while.

Nico managed not to pass out after shadow-travelling us to Nevada, and I managed not to throw up, so maybe we were getting better at this shadow-travelling thing. Blackjack told me exactly what he thought of the feeling of his eyeballs being compressed into his skull, though I decided Nico didn't need to know the specifics. He think he picked up on the tone, though.

After Artemis' warning, I half expected to be attacked the moment we landed; but there was no suspicious rustling in the scrub, and we set out in the direction of Ely, Nevada unmolested except by midges. Our shoes - my trainers, Nico's boots - crunched through the occasional drift of leaves on the ground. Blackjack offered to carry us further, but he was tired and both Nico and I wanted to walk and stretch our legs. At least, I think Nico wanted that. He'd gone quiet again after lunch.

The weird mood stayed through the rest of the afternoon, through dinner, and through us finding some tiny motel to stay in. Once the sun had gone down, the temperature had dropped fast.

I said as much to Nico when we got to our twin room.

"It's going to hit freezing out there," I said in wonder as I turned up the thermostat. "Did you hear the lady on the desk say they had temperatures below freezing every day for nearly two-thirds of the year? _Man_ , it's cold in here. We ought to have asked for a double so we could huddle for warmth." I said it like a joke, but I could actually have done with a human hot-water bottle.

Well, I guess that was the straw that broke the pegasus' back. Nico stopped emptying the apparently bottomless pockets of his jacket in search of I didn't know what, and stared fixedly at the wall past my head.

"Don't talk stupid, Percy," he snapped.

"Huh?" For a guy who claimed he didn't hate me...

"Joking about sharing a bed. It's funny because it's too _gay_ for you, right?" Nico's voice was bitter. "Stop it."

Now, when it comes to figuring out what other people are _really_ saying to me, I'm not always the brightest bulb in the box. Unless it's that they not-so-secretly think I'm scum: I'm pretty good at recognising that. But other interpersonal stuff, noticing and understanding the signals people are giving off in my direction? It's hit-and-miss, to say the least. But suddenly, a few things I'd never understood about Nico snapped into place.

"Is that what this is all about?" I tried not to sound accusing. "That was what Cupid told you that you didn't want to hear? That when you told me you weren't interested in Annabeth, you meant because you aren't interested in girls?"

Nico blanched in horror.

"I," he said, then stopped. "Percy," he said, helplessly. He looked like he had when he and Jason had met Cupid. I realised that he hadn't meant to reveal that.

The shadows around him seemed to lengthen.

"No!" I leapt towards him and grabbed his shoulders, then his hands when he tried to fight me off. "You are _not_ going to shadow-travel out of here!" I was scared and upset, but also angry. I was _not_ going to let Nico run away when I'd just worked out something important.

"Let go!" Nico shouted back. His chalky skin looked stretched over the bones of his face. In a moment, he'd reverted to how he'd looked when we rescued him from that jar. I'd done that. He fought my grip with ferocious, desperate strength; but I was taller and heavier, and in the end I pinned him against the wall.

"For Zeus' sake, Nico," I hissed, thunder booming disapprovingly in the distance, "I'm not going to _hurt_ you!"

Nico didn't look like he believed me. Beneath us, the ground shook ominously. In desperation, and not wanting to have to explain to the management why there had been a localised earthquake and why there were a bunch of skeletons on the floor - assuming I was alive to tell the tale - I proved I meant what I'd said.

And by that, I mean I flung my arms around him and refused to let go.

He struggled. And by 'struggled', I mean 'fought like a cat being given a bath'. I expected to feel bony hands tearing me limb from limb any second as he snarled into my shoulder and tried to shove me off - but I was taller, older and heavier, and I had him pinned.

I guess it eventually dawned on him that I wasn't trying to suffocate or supplex him, because he went limp. The ground stopped shaking. I tightened my grip, just in case. I remembered playing possum to wriggle out of school bullies' holds.

"Nico, there's nothing _wrong_ with it. What did you think I was going to say?"

Nico made an inarticulate noise of disagreement into my shoulder.

"It's _not_. There's nothing wrong with _you_." Nico shook his head unhappily, but his arms crept around my waist. Had this really been it, all along? Had this been Nico's problem?

We stayed like that for a while, clinging onto each other. I didn't say anything more: I didn't know what to say. I was pretty sure that Nico was trying not to cry, and that frightened me.

We slept in separate beds, silently. But I listened to Nico's breathing and thought about a lot of things I hadn't thought about before, until I finally drifted off to sleep.

The morning was awkard, but not as awkward as it could have been. Nico was back to not being able to look me in the eye, but I treated him exactly the same as normal. I maybe even over-compensated slightly. It was as if that moment of unexpected emotional intimacy in a Nevada hotel room had never happened. But the tension was bubbling under the surface, and when Nico looked up and accidentally made eye contact, I felt like my hair was being seared off. Nico went vibrantly red and instantly looked away.

We made Yerington in a few hours for lunch, then headed for Sacramento and Central Valley. When Nico took my hand to shadow-travel us, it was like an electrical charge went through me. He was so wound up that skeletons ought to be clawing up through the ground. I closed my eyes and squeezed hard.

As luck would have it, Nico got us there on the first try.

Central Valley produces more than half of the fruits, vegetables and nuts grown in the United States. Logically, it must be pretty green and lush. I know that. But this was something else.

We'd landed in what looked like a garden: a huge, fertile garden. Instead of fruit being grown in neat rows, all different kinds of tree and bush intertwined, every one of them laden so heavily that the fruit weighed down the branches. Beneath our feet, the tops of carrots and kale sprouted from the soil. I heard water flowing in the distance.

"So, this flower-thingy is in paradise?" Me speaking must have made Nico realise that he hadn't let go of my hand yet, because he dropped it like I was contagious.

"Looks like." Nico looked around dubiously at all the growing things.

"Is this Demeter's garden? I mean..." It was clearly divine in origin.

"You think this is _Demeter's_ garden? How very flattering." At the sound of a rough but sweet man's voice, we spun around. And immediately wished we hadn't, because this guy was _not_ dressed for company.

"Not Demeter." Nico's lips barely moved. He was trying not to stare at the same thing I was trying not to stare at. Did this guy really have to go around greeting _guests_ like that? What was he the god _of_? Because, as you've probably already guessed, he was definitely a god.

The guy - the god - smiled. It didn't reach his eyes.

"Little trespassers," he said, almost fondly. "I know what you have come for, and I am bound to give it to you. Though you will, I am afraid, have to get it yourself." He sounded pleased about that.

He looked straight at me with piercing deep brown eyes. "Since you've spoken so kindly of my garden, I'll let _you_ do it. Come forward."

I stepped up to the dubious honour. I could feel Nico vibrating with tension behind me. Up close, I could see that the god had a craggy, smiling face and was wearing a wreath on his curly hair. I was also very aware that I was now so close to a certain part of him that if he stepped forward it would hit my knee, and if it did I wasn't sure what I would do.

"Your flower and fruit are there on that tree." He pointed to my right. "Cut them, and you shall have them."

I fled, though not without a backwards glance at Nico, who was determinedly keeping his gaze above the god's waist. The sooner I could get this fruit thing, the sooner we could get out of here. I've been in locker rooms with guys who like to let it all hang out, but this was something else.

The tree was only a few feet away, and I spotted what we needed immediately, because they were the only flower and fruit on it. It looked like a Chinese lantern, except the leaf part was lilac and the berry was bright red.

The god had said I could have it _if_ I could cut it. I was tempted to draw Riptide, just to see what would happen if I tried with the normal demigod's Celestial Bronze - but I could already guess that at the very best, it wouldn't work. Artemis' pocket knife was burning a hole in my pocket. I took it out and set to work.

Behind me, I could hear the god conversing with Nico.

"You, on the other hand..." The god clucked his tongue. "Well, you haven't really got any manners, have you? _Little trespasser._ "

Wisely, Nico said nothing. That was better than I would have done. I would have told the guy to shove it, which of course would have proved that I really was a bad-mannered trespasser. I still desperately wanted to ask whether he just dressed like that because he couldn't find pants with a third leg.

"Trespassers," the god told Nico with a sigh, "are the bane of my existence. Always wanting to steal something from me. Always wanting to poach what isn't theirs." I sawed harder with the golden blade, working it through the tough stem that kept the fruit on the tree. When we got out of here alive, I was going to dedicate it to Artemis on her altars.

"That's why, little trespasser, you shall suffer the trespasser's punishment." The god's voice was so gentle that I didn't realise what he was saying at first. Then it clicked, and I spun around to see him push Nico to his knees.

I yelled something, I don't know what, and the fruit came off the branch in my hand as I raced back towards them. I _wouldn't let him-_

I actually collided with the god, knocking both of us down. I didn't think about how I probably shouldn't squish this fruit since we needed it to protect the camp: I was just fixed on getting him and his massive hard-on away from Nico. Before he could throw me off, I held Artemis' golden blade to his throat.

"Get out of here." I didn't recognise my own voice. The virgin huntress' blade seemed to want to pierce his divine skin.

The god smiled. There was earth in the lines of his face.

"So I shall. But when you recognise my parting gift, you might wish I'd stayed. Remember, boys: sucking and fucking only!"

And then I was kneeling over thin air. Behind me, Nico cried out, and I scrambled awkwardly to my feet.

Nico was still kneeling on the ground, but now he was bent over on his hands and knees. He looked up as I approached. His face was red. I first thought he'd overheated somehow, but then he looked away from me and I realised he was embarrassed.

"Nico..." I ventured. Nico just got redder. Then he squirmed in a very particular way, and I realised what the god had done.

"Nico, is that guy...?"

"Priapus," interrupted Nico, quietly.

"Priapus. Is this what Priapus usually does?"

Nico attempted a casual shrug. It looked more like he was hunching his shoulders protectively around his ears.

"Or something like it. He's a fertility god."

"So I see."

There was a long, awkward pause, during which Nico continued to do an impression of a tomato. 'Sucking and fucking', huh? I cleared my throat and said, with a nonchalance I really didn't feel,

"So, how do you want to do this?"

Nico looked at me in undisguised horror.

"Percy, I can't ask you to..." Words apparently failed him. He couldn't look me in the eye. He was turning dangerous shades of red. "Can't you just _go_?"

"Nico, you heard what Priapus said." I tried to project an air of calm, like I knew what I was doing. In reality, I was as scared and embarrassed as Nico. "It's not going to go away unless we...you know." Words apparently failed me too. That wasn't really helping with the calm, no-judgement thing I was trying for.

Nico squirmed restlessly and chewed his lip. His eyes kept closing. He was vulnerable like this, and I hated seeing it; but I couldn't look away either. He'd never let me in, even though he'd helped me so much - so much of it without telling me. Why help a guy on a quest but not give him the time of day when you meet up after it? There were a lot of things I'd never really understood about Nico.

But now there was one thing I _did_ understand about Nico, and it was extra-cruel of Priapus to punish him like that. I knew how I'd feel if I was in his situation at fifteen with a girl I didn't much like.

I put my hand on his thigh - not too high, just feeling out the ground. His skin was warm through his jeans and I rubbed my hand up and down, like you'd pet a horse. I felt Nico's breathing pick up.

"Just close your eyes," I told him, in as soothing a voice as I could muster. "I'll look after you."

It was a stupid thing to say, even though - especially though - it was true. Nico awoke strange protective instincts in me, but he clearly wasn't interested in being protected, and least of all by me. If he'd been in his right mind he'd have given me a sardonic look and pointed out that he didn't carry a heavy Stygian iron sword as a fashion statement.

But my hand was on his thigh, his breathing was fast, and with a little sigh he closed his eyes and let his legs fall apart. The only sound around us was the birdsong and the rustle of wind in the trees.

From there, it was easy. I was surprised how easy it was to just touch another guy's dick. I never had before, but it just seemed natural to put my hand over his crotch and squeeze and fondle it through his jeans. I watched my fingers pull down his zipper like they were a stranger's fingers.

I didn't want to look at my friend's dick - that was weird, even though I was touching it - but even though I was thinking I shouldn't, I was still looking at it as I carefully pulled it out of his jeans. It was hot, really hot, and so hard it throbbed and jumped in my hand. Nico was taking gasping breaths through his nose as I pulled the foreskin over the head, playing with it.

But I was supposed to be doing this quickly. I made my hand into a fist and wrapped it around his dick, and started working it like I worked my own. Nico gasped, then bit his lip hard. I watched his thighs flex as the head of his dick slid through my fingers, back and forth, so stiff it had to hurt. I pumped it like I would mine if I really needed to get off in the next sixty seconds, and he made a high-pitched sound in the back of his throat.

I looked up. Nico's face was scrunched up, his eyes screwed shut and his teeth chewing a hole in his lip.

I felt bad all of a sudden. This was definitely Nico's first time, and here I was trying to make it as impersonal as possible. If it had been Jason in his position I could just have given him a bro hand-job (bro-job?) and it would have been fine and we probably would have laughed about it afterwards, but Nico wasn't like that. Whatever happened, we definitely wouldn't be laughing about it afterwards.

I didn't usually think of Nico as being younger than me, but he was, by a good three years and a half years, plus he was totally inexperienced; and I suddenly realised that my attempt at a casual it's-just-business approach probably just came off as callous. This was _not_ how anyone wanted their first sexual contact with another human being to go. Plus he clearly wasn't comfortable with being gay, and here I was, another guy with a hand on his dick.

I took my hand off his dick. Nico opened his eyes. He looked confused.

"Huh?" Make that confused and kind of frustrated.

"C'mere." I put my hand - the clean one - on his jaw, brushing back his silky hair. Then I leaned in, slowly, so he could back away if he really did just want an awkward, impersonal handjob and felt kissing me would be too weird.

Apparently he didn't, or maybe wasn't sure, because he stayed totally still as I tilted my head and gently pressed my mouth to his. When he didn't try to push me away, I kissed him a little harder, willing him to loosen up.

Slowly, he untensed under me and I felt an answering pressure as he shyly started to kiss back. Yeah, this was definitely his first kiss. And we were about to move straight to the advanced class.

"Open your mouth," I whispered against his lips, then traced them with my tongue. It worked: he shivered hard, then let my tongue slip inside his mouth.

His mouth was hot and soft inside, and I traced his tongue slickly with mine. I might never have touched another guy's dick before, but I knew how to kiss. I showed him what to do, sucking and licking at his mouth and encouraging him to copy me. I put my free arm around his shoulder and tried to hold him close.

When I touched his dick again, he practically melted into me, rocking his hips like he was close to coming. It was nice: I could happily jerk off Nico here in this garden and then never speak of it again. That would be fine. But: _sucking and fucking_ , Priapus had said. I knew what _that_ meant.

I'll be honest: I'd never even _thought_ about doing this before. But it was my mouth or my ass, and I picked my mouth.

"Percy, what are you doing?" Nico hissed when I broke the kiss and started moving downwards. I pressed him backwards, encouraging him to lie down on his back on the ground.

"Sucking or fucking. I choose sucking." His dick was staring me in the face. I stared back at it. It was just a dick. Not even a menacing dick. Just the dick of another teenage boy who I was about to suck off to get rid of whatever curse a fertility god with a permanent hard-on had put on him. No pressure, or anything.

"What? Percy, you can't-"

I did.

It tasted like - well, like a dick. Salty. Nico made a small hiccupping noise and tried to arch his hips, but I caught them so he couldn't choke me. I sucked on the spongy head and felt Nico's blunt fingernails dig into my back. I started to use my tongue and Nico started shaking, rocking back and forth as much as he could, like I was making him feel so good he couldn't control himself.

He started groaning louder, more urgently, and I knew what was coming. I tried to suck harder and rub the sensitive spot underneath the head with my tongue and even bob my head a little, as stupid as it made me feel: anything I'd seen or had done to me that might help.

I opened my eyes and looked up, expecting his eyes to be closed - but they were open, and he was staring right down at me as I sucked his dick with all the expertise I could pretend. Then his eyes closed, he threw back his head, and he let out hoarse, gasping groans as his dick pulsed and spat jets of come into my mouth.

I won't lie: I spat it all out. I have no idea how anyone can want to swallow that. But Nico didn't seem to care, shuddering through the aftershocks, dick dribbling its last spurt of come. I watched his thin chest heave through his t-shirt, and became uncomfortably aware that I now had a raging boner of my own. I hadn't expected to like it in _that_ way.

It's just an automatic reaction to somebody making loud sex sounds in your ear, I told myself. Perfectly normal.


End file.
